Guild
With most of the town watch and adventurers out and about assisting in the Hamlet's defense, the empty training area on the main floor was perfect for practice. After a quick discussion, Reynauld decided the team should start off with three-on-one spars in an attempt to simulate fighting large crowds of skeletal troops. The staccato sounds of shuffling feet and colliding weapons echoed throughout the Guild as each member of the team took turns fending off the other three.
After their bodies grew weary from sparring for so long, they took a break on a nearby bench. Reynauld removed his helmet to drink from his canteen, and his comrades did the same. He cast a sideways glance at Estelle and noticed she had a somewhat surprised expression on her face. He took it as a sign that she was seeing the faces of the two other Crusaders for the first time. Balian had been barely more than a boy when he joined the Crusade, and even now his chin-length black hair and thin beard did little to disguise his youth. But he had proved himself a capable fighter and a charismatic leader during the Crusade, outshining men twice his age. Almaric nevertheless delighted in teasing Balian about his youthful innocence; once, Balian would have gone red and fallen silent, but these days he was more likely to laugh and point out Almaric's increasingly barren scalp instead. Reynauld was glad to be able to count them among his comrades; they were both powerful warriors and good friends, even if their bickering occasionally tested his patience. Reynauld leaned back against the wall, smiling to himself as he reminisced. It was almost enough to quell the gnawing worry in his heart.
"I gotta say, you guys work really well together," Estelle said. "I got a pretty good workout fighting you guys."
"You give yourself too little credit, Estelle. I have never encountered anyone who spars as ferociously as you," Balian chuckled. "If you were holding back, then our enemies shall be in for a nasty surprise."
"I was somewhat skeptical when Reynauld spoke so highly of your fighting skill. But if anything, he understated your prowess," Almaric said. "Isn't that right, brother?"
"I suppose I did," Reynauld admitted, forcing a smile.
Some of his worries must have shown on his face, because Balian frowned. "What is the matter, brother?" he asked. "You seem preoccupied. You were somewhat distracted during our duels, too."
"Thou art an astute one, brother. Unfortunately, I cannot even discern the cause myself." Reynauld paused for a few moments before putting on his helmet and standing up. "Come, let us go check on the battle in the west. There is something I must see for myself."
Taking a walk from the Guild to the west road did nothing to quell the uneasy feeling in Reynauld's guts. If anything, he became even more anxious as he caught his first glimpse of the battle. Reynauld was no stranger to battling the undead, yet he still felt he was missing something very important, a detail a man with his experience should never have overlooked. As the group approached the western entrance, the chaotic cacophony of battle became louder. Clashing weapons, shouted commands, and the moans of the wounded fill the air. In addition to the arrow and musket fire from the rooftops, the infantry manned the gap in the barricade and kept the skeletons at bay with sword and spear.
Light, grant me wisdom and insight. Reveal unto me what I should see. Reynauld glanced at the formed infantry holding the gap in the barricade leading onto the bridge. The front rank was bearing the brunt of the assault, and replacements from the rear were shuffling forward on a regular basis to relieve them, allowing their embattled comrades to fall back to the rear to rest. He saw Baldwin among them, standing right next to the barricade — which was now littered with shattered skeletons.
"I am surprised to see thee so far back, old friend," Reynauld jested as he and the others approached Baldwin who was leaning heavily on his sword. "Thou art always the one to lead the charge."
"A season for rest, and a season for battle," Baldwin replied amidst labored breathing. "I may be idle now, but the cycle of time shall dictate my return to battle in short order."
"How goes the fight?" Reynauld asked, hoping Baldwin's answer would provide him with some insight into his own turmoil.
"Something is not right. The horde is simply trickling in, nothing more," Baldwin replied. "You know as well as I do that the undead tend to attack in massive swarms, yet this rabble merely come in smaller waves."
"Thy spirit is ill at ease too, I see. The undead's attack pattern is suspicious, but I fear something else may be afoot," Reynauld said as he unsheathed his own sword. "His Lordship hath ordered me to conserve my strength, but I am ready to assist if need be."
Estelle cleared her throat. "I get how you feel, Reynauld, but it looks like things are under control here," she said, flanked by Balian and Almaric. "I want to kick some bony ass too, but we've got an even harder fight ahead of us."
"Estelle is correct, brother," Balian said. "We have been here long enough, let us head—"
"Watch out! Over the top!" Baldwin suddenly called out, pointing at the top of the barricades. Reynauld saw several bone soldiers, river water dripping from their frames, preparing to jump down from the top of the barricade. With a loud grunt, Baldwin demolished one of them mid-jump with a single swing of his sword. The remainder were easily dispatched thanks to Reynauld and his companions.
"Some break away from the horde to trudge across the riverbed before making the climb," Baldwin explained as Reynauld examined the wet remains. Suddenly, a flash of realization flared up in Reynauld's mind like a fresh-lit torch. No…I was a fool…how could I have missed this?
"The trickle, the water, it…it all makes sense now," Reynauld said, praying from the bottom of his heart that he was wrong and simply being paranoid. He shot up and looked through the eye slits on Baldwin's mask and straight into the Leper's eyes. "Send men to reinforce the waterfront! I shall meet them there!"
Reynauld then turned on his heel, motioning for Estelle and the other two Crusaders to follow him too.
"Reynauld, wait up!" Estelle quickly caught up with him, with Balian and Almaric following close behind. "What the hell was that? Why are you so riled up all of a sudden?"
"Have thou noticed how the bone soldiers were all wet? They had crossed the bottom of the stream before climbing over the barricades!" Reynauld explained as he continued his purposeful stride towards the waterfront. "The attack on the west entrance is merely a diversion!"
"A diversion from what?" Estelle asked.
They arrived at the beach where fishing boats were launched and nets dried. Aside from themselves and Barristan, who happened to be doing rounds in the area, there were only two militiamen and a handful of shipwrights examining one of the fishing boats. I think I have an idea what this is about, but Aidios please don't let it be true…
"No, no, no…this is nowhere near enough," Reynauld muttered under his helmet instead of answering Estelle's question. He then rushed towards Barristan and spoke to him, but Estelle was too far to hear their conversation. Barristan's face suddenly turned white as a sheet, then he issued orders for the militiamen to stand fast while sending the shipwrights way for their own safety as well as to call for additional reinforcements. Reynauld then turned to face Estelle and the other two Crusaders once more.
"I understand His Lordship instructed us to conserve our strength, but this is a truly urgent matter. The three of you shall join the defensive line and prepare for a tough battle ahead," Reynauld said in a rushed tone. A splashing from the water's edge caused him to whip around. "Oh no…we are too late…"
"What's going on?" one of the militiamen asked, and Estelle noticed it was the same boy she fought next to during the swine attack.
The figures trudging out of the water onto the sand gave the boy the answer he needed: pelagic groupers whose bodies were covered in deep cuts and gouges. They keeled over dead after barely taking a step on dry land. Everyone readied their weapons even as their hands shook from dread and anticipation. Reynauld seemed to be quaking the most.
After a few silent moments that seemed like an eternity, ripples began to form on the water's surface. The formerly clear water became murky from all the sand kicked up by the dark shapes within, which were drawing closer. Soon after, even the sand beneath the defenders' feet began to shake and a muffled rumble could be heard from the sea. Fearful whispers were traded between the two militiamen while Barristan and the Crusaders stared at shoreline, bracing themselves for whatever may come next. Estelle took a closer look into the sea and understood why Reynauld was shaking so much.
A tactical orbment such as an ARCUS, once "bonded" with its user, can confer myriad abilities and boons depending on what kind of quartz is inserted. At that moment, Estelle happened to have the Detection quartz fitted, which allowed her to sense nearby enemies by showing them as glowing red silhouettes in her vision — even when they're hiding behind obstructions.
In the sea, hidden by the cloud of sand, were hundreds of said silhouettes.
"We need to pull back!" Estelle blurted out, seeing how dire their situation really was.
"Coward! Stand your ground or I shall have you flogged for desertion!" Barristan said, and Estelle knew she had to quickly come with an idea to defend the beach and convince her companions..
"Listen to me! You see this?" Estelle held up her orbment. "It allows me to see how many enemies are in that water, and there's a ton of them! I have a plan, but we need to pull back and buy time!"
Reynauld held up a hand to stay Barristan's anger. "Trust Estelle, friend. She has fought valiantly in every battle she's been in and has no reason to desert."
"I shall trust your judgement, Reynauld, but know that you will be equally as liable as the girl if the Hamlet is lost," Barristan said before ordering the militiamen to pull back until there was a fair distance between them and the beach, and Reynauld ordered the other Crusaders to follow them.
"First things first, everyone form a line ahead of me," Estelle said as she knelt down, took out her quartz box, and opened her ARCUS's lid before taking out every single quartz held within its slots. Best make it quick by starting fresh.
As the trembling beneath her feet worsened and panicked whispers spread even among the Crusaders, Estelle forced herself to look down. She had tried to conserve as much of her orbment's energy as she could, but she was at a point where she could no longer afford to hold back. The first order of business was to swap in an Aries master quartz which allowed her ARCUS to recharge itself based on how much damage her offensive arts inflicted on the enemy as well as the amount of enemies said Arts hurt. Then in went a few quartzes that, when combined, would cut down her Arts casting time and power consumption while increasing the amount of damage her Arts could deal as well as how much orbal energy her ARCUS could hold.
With step one of her plan completed, Estelle stood back up and yelped at the sight ahead of her. The seven defenders, herself included, were facing an army of skeletons that was steadily marching up the beach. The front ranks were dominated by bone spearmen while the rear was filled with bone soldiers. The hulking form of a few bone commanders could be seen marching out of the water as well. Judging from what she saw earlier, Estelle figured the bulk of the army hadn't even made it onto dry land yet.
"Cover me, guys! ARCUS, activate!" Estelle said as a glowing halo appeared around her. Aidios, please make this quick. I'm not going to let anyone else die.
Throne Room, Ruins
"Bones no need air, can march in water fine."
The Necromancer Lord was, at heart, a still a human being — albeit an undead one. Therefore, he still had lapses in knowledge and judgement and had not been aware of the advantages the undead had over the living until his general pointed it out to him. Surprising the living via an attack from the sea would give him the advantage he needed in order to achieve total victory over that pathetic Hamlet that had given him and his deceased colleagues so many problems.
"Use smaller attack, distract living."
The first prong was to be nothing more than a diversion to tie up the defenders and leave the waterfront totally exposed. In order to have a clear view of his victory, the Necromancer Lord had assumed direct control of a bone spearman at the very front of his army as they marched up the beach. Said direct view proved the general's advice correct as they were only facing seven fleshbags. He made out three stooges of the Light, a veteran who was probably the most experienced of the seven, two bare-faced boys, and a girl that seemed to be surrounded by a strange glow. Pathetic mortals, you shall be cut down as wheat by the might of my army.
"Concentrate troops, smash defences."
As per his general's suggestion, the Necromancer Lord had opted to concentrate his entire army at one point along the waterfront in order to push through what meager defences the living hadn't devoted to the west side. As his troops marched up the beach, he laughed at the pathetic seven-man defence which would fall in seconds against his onslaught. The spearman he controlled leveled his weapon along with the others in the first rank and charged at the seven defenders, ready to skewer them before moving on to the rest of the unsuspecting Hamlet.
Hamlet Waterfront
Even through his armor, Reynauld felt the ground beneath him quake from the trampling feet of the skeleton army. He still stood resolutely but knew full well that he and his six comrades would barely make a dent in the first two ranks before they were overrun by the enemy. Still, they had to buy the precious minutes needed for reinforcements to arrive, even if they fell in battle doing so. As the enemy marched ever closer, Reynauld saw that the center started to slow down while the left and right flanks marched on. The enemy formation started to resemble the jaws of an infernal beast, ready to pounce on the defenders at any given moment.
"Send these fiends back to their graves!" Reynauld raised his sword. "If we fall, we fall as martyrs!"
The maw of the enemy continued to close in, levelling their spears at Reynauld and his fellow defenders. He readied his sword, prepared to fight to the bitter end. Oh Light, grant us strength and let Estelle's plan succeed.
"Take this!" Estelle shouted from behind him. "Maelstrom!"
A wide bank of water suddenly erupted in front of Reynauld and his comrades before crashing down upon the skeletal troops in the front ranks. The furious flood shattered the front ranks of the enemy army before washing the rest back towards the sea, violently dashing skeletons against each other. The sight reminded Reynauld of the Scriptures which described mighty floods sent by the Light to wipe out the wicked.
"What?" Barristan shouted in surprise.
"It's a miracle!" one of the militiamen said. "Praise the Light!"
A whirlpool formed a fair distance from the shoreline, drawing in both seawater and the water that Estelle had seemingly summoned out of thin air. The flood that had appeared in front of Reynauld joined three other equally powerful streams at the center of the whirlpool before converging into a titanic waterspout that put even the Abbey's clocktower to shame. The waterspout sucked away so much water that even areas that were usually constantly submerged became dry land. Even at a distance, Reynauld saw that it had managed to suck up what must have been the bulk of the main enemy force and was dashing them against each other. Weapons, armor, and their owners were being violently thrown around inside the waterspout, shattering the skeletal horde against itself in a cacophony that sounded like constant thunderclaps to Reynauld. Is this what her "Arts" are truly capable of? What manner of human is she, bending nature to her will?
He had witnessed the wrath of the ocean before, when he was a passenger in one of the many ships that ferried troops to the Crusades. Yet seeing the mighty waves from a distance on a ship's deck was nothing compared to standing up close in front of the maelstrom which Estelle had conjured. Seconds later, the waterspout crashed back onto the surface, crushing what little had remained of the enemy army in an explosion of water and bone. The additional water conjured by Estelle disappeared, leaving the sea level just as it had been before the attack. Reynauld's companions stared on in silence at the shattered remnants of the skeleton army, and he himself still could not process the apocalyptic miracle that had just transpired. After a few seconds, Barristan broke the silence.
"Estelle, you have my sincerest apologies," Barristan told Estelle. "I was wrong to call you a coward."
"Don't sweat it, Barristan," Estelle replied. "You probably never saw anything like this before."
"What sorcery is this?" Almaric spoke up. "To manipulate the power of the water like that?"
"Show some respect, friend. This is probably a miracle from that goddess she worships," Balian said. "Which makes Estelle a holy warrior of her faith!"
"Thanks for the compliment, but I'm not some miracle-granting nun who kicks ass for Aidios. I just used an Orbal Art, that's all," Estelle replied. "Think of it as extremely advanced science from my home. I don't know as much as some other people, but I'll give you a quick primer when we're not in the middle of an invasion. Speaking of which…"
Estelle closed the lid of her strange device before examining it, and then let out a sigh of relief. "Boy, I sure lucked out. Good thing there were a lot of them in the water. That Art managed to recharge most of the power I spent to cast it! Any less and I would have to bust out an EP charge or two."
"Thine actions have been commendable in every way, but let us return to the matter at hand. My brothers and Estelle, and I shall remain here for the time being to eliminate any survivors," Reynauld said, taking charge of the situation and trying to get his comrades to refocus on their mission. "Barristan, thou can resume thy patrol and inform the reinforcements that they are no longer needed. The town watch shall remain in position and assist with the cleanup until their relief arrives."
Throne Room
"No…no!" The Necromancer Lord could do nothing but scream in rage when he saw the flood approaching his army. The last thing he saw before his connection was severed was the bone spearman being tossed straight towards another spear. He tried to take control of the others in his army only to be met with failure. He lashed out with his claws, cutting down several of his bodyguards before turning his attention to the general. He thrust a clawed hand toward the skeletal general but stopped inches before he reached the skull. No. He is still needed.
"How can this be? How can my mighty bone army fall to some…glowing girl!" He angrily pointed a finger at the general. "The entire assault is doomed because of your advice! If we hadn't concentrated the troops in a single location, then we could have salvaged the attack!"
"Army was more than enough to destroy Hamlet. Never foresaw strange magician," the general replied.
"'Never foresaw' is right. We could have used that Prophet to predict this disaster if he didn't…" The Necromancer Lord trailed off. The Prophet was completely destroyed with fire magic by the men working for the Betrayer's progeny. What if the girl is the one who cast that spell? What if she comes for me next?
"Something matter?" the bone general asked.
"Yes, it appears we have a major problem on our hands. Our forces are too depleted to continue the assault on the Hamlet. Although we had not anticipated this situation, the work the troops have been doing should be enough to resolve the problem," the Necromancer Lord replied. "Send out more raiding parties into the Warrens for corpse parts but pull back the remainder of our forces to focus on protecting the Throne Room. I have work to do."
The Necromancer Lord then trudged off towards one of his makeshift laboratories, past a group of reanimated brigands. It had been converted from a wine cellar and was strewn with corpse parts his troops had spent the last while gathering from nearby locations. They swayed and groaned in darkness as the Necromancer Lord made his way to the thing in the center of the room. Swathed in a gigantic covering stitched together from multiple pieces of human and swine skin, it was his master piece and the reason why he needed as many corpses as possible in the first place. The Necromancer Lord lifted a corner of the gruesome covering and peeked underneath, grinning while he did so.
"I suppose you have been lonely down here. Worry not, I shall have enough material to make you a brother soon enough," he said, delightfully imagining that strange glowing girl being ripped limb-to-limb by his creation. "I just hope you don't mind sharing your food."
Hamlet
Word of Estelle's "miracle" had spread quickly among the Hamlet's denizens and defenders, greatly raising their spirits and rallying them to drive out the undead invaders in a complete rout. Villagers with pitchforks and other farm implements supplemented the town watch, housewives cooked extra meals for the weary defenders, and even children were put to work as couriers and messengers. By dawn next day, victory belonged to the people of the Hamlet, although at the cost of the lives of several town watchmen.
After spending the remainder of the day cleaning up and recuperating, a service in the Abbey was held for the fallen just as with the victims of the earlier undead attack. Estelle had been hesitant to enter since she knew full well she was considered a heathen by local standards, but Reynauld had assured her that she would face no hostility over her faith. While Reynauld was correct, Estelle was surprised by how much he had downplayed the amount of adulation the townsfolk gave her upon arrival.
To compound Estelle's surprise, the Heir invited her to speak a few words at the service because of her newfound reputation. Estelle strode towards the pulpit, so reminiscent of the one she saw every day at the church in her home town. She looked at the crowd, which stared at her in a mix of adoration and anticipation, and her breath caught in her throat for a split second. You can do this, Estelle. It's is just like that one time I taught a bunch of kids about the Bracer Guild except with a bigger crowd. Aidios, please don't let me screw this up…
"I…I'm not a hero, just a Bracer doing my job and an outsider who was kindly taken in by the Hamlet when I had nowhere else to go. The real heroes are the ones we are honoring today, who gave everything they had to defend their home. I've only been here for a couple of months, but I can tell you are all strong people who continue to call this place home even in the face of horror and evil," She paused to look out over the villagers, seeing some nod their heads or raise their fists in agreement. "In the next couple of days, I'll be part of a mission to face the one responsible for all the death and misery during the past few days. I guarantee that justice will be done. Thank you."
The congregation gave Estelle a standing ovation as she made back to her seat, with some of the ones she walked past reaching out to touch her clothing before clasping their hands in rapturous prayer. The action unnerved Estelle a little, but she figured it wasn't the right place to ask about it yet.
The next day, Estelle and the three Crusaders resumed their training with great fervor, practicing battle drills over and over again. With the town watch no longer occupied by the threat of enemy attack and back on regular guard duty, they even enlisted some of the militiamen to act as the undead so Estelle and her companions could practice fighting as a team. After a couple of mock battles, Estelle noticed that every single militiaman spoke to her in hushed reverent tones.
"Reynauld, what's going on?" she asked during lunchtime while they sat with Balian and Almaric. "First I had people touching me and then praying about it, and now the town watch is talking to me like I'm a king or something."
"It is because of thy seaside miracle. These people have suffered much and prayed for miracles and deliverance all these years. Thou hast given them exactly that," Reynauld replied. "Ponder this: a young lady appearing in the Hamlet all of a sudden, bearing strange yet powerful magic and leading her companions to victory. Does that not sound like something a saint would do?"
"Seriously? A saint? Me?" Estelle's jaw dropped wide open. "I don't even believe in the same god as you guys! Can't you and the others do something about this? Like telling the people I'm not actually a saint?"
"If that is thy desire, then my brothers and I shall do everything in our power to dispel the myth," Reynauld said. "Be aware that this may be a daunting task. Many people saw the titanic waterspout, and I am sure myths are spreading among the Hamlet's people as we speak. Do not be alarmed if the people continue to approach you with reverence."
After lunch, the Librarian brought the maps for the sector of the Ruins surrounding the Throne Room, and the team spent the rest of the daylight hours poring over them and strategizing how to best proceed towards the Throne Room.
"It appears we may have to venture underground at times. Interesting, and a tad unnerving…"
"Hmm…I can get up on these balconies and support you guys with Arts from there…"
"We must be wary; the corridor seems especially narrow here…"
"Perhaps this storeroom has treasure…"
And so, a relatively peaceful day passed by, a relief from two straight days of terror and bloodshed caused by the undead. Estelle's own sleep was free of the nightmares that plagued her two nights before.
She was awoken from her sound slumber by a whisper: "Estelle, wake up!"
"Huh? What's going on?" She groggily sat up. "Margaret?"
"The lookout reported seeing a flare coming from the direction of the Ruins," Margaret replied, and Estelle instantly knew what she meant. Estelle quickly got ready and grabbed her staff before heading out to meet the others. She noticed that dawn was still a ways off
"Well met, Estelle, " Reynauld greeted Estelle warmly. "Before we leave, I would like to speak for a few moments."
"This mission shall not be an easy one. Even when supported by zeal and righteous purpose, the sharpest blade will dull when faced with too many powerful opponents. Our bodies will tire, our armor will fail, and if we are not careful, we shall become nothing but fresh fodder for that foul Necromancer Lord," Reynauld said solemnly. "But we shall not let that come to pass! Estelle, friend of another faith, thy miraculous sciences and skills shall ensure our bodies will remain nimble and stalwart, our armor impervious to the enemy's strikes, and our swords able to strike with force and fury never seen before. We are veterans of countless battles against the undead and shall take the battle to the enemy with holy purpose. Our experience combined with Estelle's abilities will ensure that it is the Necromancer Lord and not us who shall become fodder. Let us go, and march to victory."
After some quiet cheers to not disturb the other residents, the four of them made for the Ruins. The trek was quicker than the last time Estelle had been there thanks to a somewhat greater familiarity with the region, and they soon found the gap in the castle wall that had been marked out by the Librarian's map. The four lit a torch and huddled together in a quick prayer, and then they marched into the stygian darkness together.
Author's Note: For those who are curious, I got the names of the two Crusaders from the movie Kingdom of Heaven. It's a great movie, provided you watch the extended Director's Cut and not the theater version. Now, the bad news. I'm deploying, so the fic will be on hiatus until mid to late June at the very earliest. I tried to pace the chapter so it won't end on too ominous a note. See you guys in the summer!